Say It
by Marilena
Summary: A woman. Mayonnaise. Put them together and you get Hijikata Toshirou's deepest, darkest secret. Yes, the Vice Commander has those kinds of dreams too.


A/N: Hello, readers. This is my first fic for the most hilarious anime of them all, Gintama. I was a little disappointed to see how small the fandom is but I happened to read a couple of lovely one-shots on the first few pages and reminded myself that it's all about quality, not quantity. (Still, the review wench in me protests.)

Many thanks to Novocain, my lovely beta who, despite being ill and unfamiliar with this particular fandom, was a sweetheart (and a very competent one at that) and proofread this for me.

On with the story. It's a little crazy but that's to be expected. I mean, it's a _Gintama_ fic, which by definition makes it not crazy _enough_. Also, review? Pwetty please? *Paako sparkling doe eyes*

**_Say It_**

He was in a boldly-hued, damp motel room, and he wasn't alone. The woman was a stranger; she had hair the color of chestnuts and a pair of veiny, delicately shaped hands which she brought to her face with the kind of slowed-down inefficiency that allowed her fingers to drag over and catch some of the fabric of her yukata, right where it pooled loose on her lap. This was why women rarely made good samurais, Hijikata thought to him himself with a resigned smirk and a quiet _tsk -_ but this was also why he inched closer to the bed she was half-sprawled on: drawn to her femininity with her impractical female ways, her heavy-chested form and all that was lying just below the surface tugging at his practical fighter mind, at his practiced male muscles.

He rested one knee on the mattress and felt himself tilt his body and lower his torso so that he was towering over her, closer than ever before but not touching. It felt nice, having the tension from their proximity build up inside him like a hot airwave spreading from his lower abdomen to every direction, every nerve, every end. She glanced up at him, and her eyelashes cast a spidery shadow on her cheek. Unafraid of him and rather challenging _– this woman! - _she was expertly picking up on the effect she had on him: this quickly receding coolness and fading composure, his orderliness and pride getting peeled off of him like orange zest and what it was all being replaced with.

Hijikata reached down and grasped the exposed ankle of the leg she was using as a cushion. His fingers circled around the thin bone as he pulled it from beneath her, gently, firmly, leaving an opening for his other knee to snake in between her thighs. They stood still like this for a moment, him breathing over her hair and her breathing into his neck, and then he kissed her, fast enough to send her head spinning a little and hard enough to make her bite him in return, but not so hard that the texture of her lips - the lovely warmth of the mouth against his own -were overshadowed.

Those were things he wanted to savour, and he knew it was going to be as good as it gets.

* * *

Yamazaki was on a stealth quest inside the deepest chambers of the Shinsengumi headquarters. They had received intel that the Joui had plans to infiltrate the building at night and sneak a couple of bada-booms in, so half the force was ordered to stay on patrol until two in the morning while the other half rested until they switched. It was currently a little past midnight, and he had been shoved the task of retrieving the only deck of cards that survived the wrath of Furiko, the new maid. Government-employed cleaning ladies were the scariest, he thought as he tip-toed around the sleeping forms of his Commander and Vice-Commander, because as luck would have it, the deck of cards was inside a cabinet in the very same room in which his top superiors were resting.

Side-stepping Vice Commander Hijikata, who in past missions that involved camping it out with the rest of the force had always seemed like an unperturbed sleeper, Yamazaki was a little startled to note that this time it was not quite so. In fact, he seemed to be having a decidedly disturbing dream, and Yamazaki couldn't help but look over his shoulder at the man's grimacing face while he fumbled with the handle of the cabinet. Even with a faintly pained expression, Hijikata looked every bit as dignified as during the day, only slightly less threatening. In the end though, Yamazaki had to focus on the task at hand – nimble fingers finally grasping the item he was searching for blindly - because it was, after all, a do-or-die mission. The King of S had said so himself.

Yamazaki quickly pocketed the cards, closed the cabinet with barely a sound and started to go, but at that moment the Vice Commander groaned and thrust his face to the side so violently the younger man almost yelped in surprise.

"_Thick..."_ the man on the floor muttered in his sleep. _"Runny..."_

"_You... like that, huh?"_

Yamazaki tried to back away as quickly as he could, a fight-or-flight instinct taking over, when his foot got caught on the edge of a futon and he fell to the floor like a heavy sack of rice. He lay there, face down, unable to make a move, unable to do anything but hear the words leaving his commander's mouth... and shiver.

* * *

Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his chest, forehead and mouth, yet the luscious line of her own mouth was quirked up at one side. He raised a disheveled head to stare at her strange expression.

"You're smirking," he pointed out.

"Mmm," she drew out, "you're sharp."

"Why are you smirking?" he asked, chancing a lick at her stomach with his eyes locked on hers.

"Do you like the taste of that? My skin?" she said, teasing a lock of his dark hair between her fingers.

"I do."

"Then..." she bit her lip but didn't hesitate, "don't you think it needs some sort of condiment? For that extra little ...kick?"

He raised one long, thin eyebrow and she let out a coy little spring laugh, reaching under the pillow to present him with a large plastic bottle.

So she was into kinky sex, he thought. He could do that.

"_Want me to lather you with that?" _came from somewhere deep in his throat, eyes dancing with blue phantom fire. He tried to snatch the bottle away from her but she held it at an arm's length, shaking her head; he caught her nipple in his mouth, always a man keen on retaliation, listening for the intake of breath, the tiny, pleasured sigh.

"I want you to watch me lather myself" - there was a hint of mock shyness there - "and then I want you to clean me up. Can you do that?" she said softly, her voice taking on the form of crisp, seductive notes of a violin played by a heartbroken virtuoso.

He could do that. Very well so.

He ran his tongue over the corner of his bottom lip. "What is it – honey? Maybe chocolate?" he asked, hoping against all hope it wouldn't be _too_ sweet. He never really liked sugar, but Hijikata Toshirou was nothing if not a trooper.

Her mouth said nothing but the rest of her face spoke of many things, impish things. He wanted to know.

"Show me."

She flicked the cap open, and squeezed the bottle over her breasts. With a prolonged _squelch_, a riverfull of gooey, pale substance started falling on her body. She made a line down to her stomach, and watched his eyes widen in shock.

It couldn't be. But there was no way he was mistaken. He would recognize it anywhere.

"T- this is..."

She nodded.

"Mayonnaise!" Hysteria. "It's mayo!"

"It's mayo," she repeated sweetly, drawing circles on her collarbone with the creamy emulsion.

"Mayo!

"Mayo."

"Mayo!"

"Mayo."

"Are you an angel?"

He took the bottle in his hands, running his fingers over each side and caressing the familiar contours before emptying its contents over her with the frightening speed and precision of a manic serial killer. An unsettling grin lingered on his face even after the shadows of sharp, dark bangs obscuring his eyes from view had faded. When that bottle was completely drained and tossed aside, the woman produced another one, and then another one, and he kept pouring them over her, deliciousness on deliciousness, his deepest perverted fantasy coming to life before his very eyes. When he was sure there wasn't a spot he had overlooked, he stopped and sat back to stare at his magnum opus.

Heaps and heaps of his beloved mayonnaise were splashed over every inch of the body on the bed so it appeared as though hair was growing out of a mayo monster with a small, red, luscious mouth.

His hands trembled at the sight. It was magnificent.

"One Hijikata special, ready." He dipped a finger into the mountainous mayo heap and brought it to his mouth. It was ready. He was ready to dive in. He closed his eyes and a scary sound of barely-controlled excitement and utter delight was released from his throat.

"Itadakimasu!"

* * *

Sougo was annoyed, and when Sougo was annoyed it was rather inconvenient because it was going to require twice the normal amount of pain be administered to innocents to calm him down. Yamazaki was late, and he was bored. And annoyed. As he turned the corner into the room he had instructed the other Shinsengumi member to search for the cards, he came to a sudden halt.

Yamazaki was sprawled on the floor like a seasick starfish, if there ever was one. Sougo stood over the dark-haired man and poked him with his boot.

"Oi, Yamazaki, you dead?"

"_Mnm..." _a subtly choked, sleepy rumble from his left made Sougo turn around. The source of the noise was none other than -

"Oh, so you're having a nightmare? Serves you well, bastard," he said in a monotone, malicious instincts taking over at the sight of his Vice Commander.

"_Mn..."_

Sougo tilted his head to the side. Hijikata was lying on his side facing the wall, so he couldn't quite see his face but, strangely enough, he could sense movement.

"_Mmffmsayit... hard-er..." _His sleeping voice was gaining momentum too, the sounds clearer and more discernible now, but obviously incoherent.

"Hey, I'm serious, what are you dreaming of? Wake up." Sougo moved closer and poked the older man's shoulder blankly. "Is it your death at my hands? The cheers? The Dom Peri? Oi, if you have precognitive dreams, we could use them in our investigations, you bastard. Don't be so selfish."

That's when he heard.

"_Say... 'mayo me'..."_

That's when he saw.

"Say, Yamazaki, why is the Vice Commander licking his arm?" he asked curiously.

In the farthest corner of the room, Yamazaki shriveled into a tight ball and hugged his knees, his face a mask of torment and unspeakable abominations.

"_Mm... F- Furi...ko - " _

Yamazaki broke down into nervous sobs.

"Say, Yamazaki, isn't that the cleaning lady?"

Like a parasite slowly taking over a rose garden, a gaunt, dreadful smile stretched the young, pretty features of the Prince from the Planet of Sadists into a horror show.

* * *

A/N: Toshi is quite the sex beast at the beginning, isn't he? Somehow, I doubt he would really be that smooth, but hey - it's _his_ dream. Just be thankful size didn't come up.

Thanks for reading!


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